


All Through Time, We've Been Here

by purplesucculent



Series: All Through Time, We've Been Here [1]
Category: The Old Guard (Comics), The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-Movie, fun history time with joe and nicky, i just wanted them to have some fun times in the past, over various european cities, totally self indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 18:53:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25870144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purplesucculent/pseuds/purplesucculent
Summary: In which Nicky and Joe hear the stories of queers on their travels throughout history. (As well as the present)(Or, they’re the gay gurus giving troubled queers advice and general comfort because I said so.)
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Series: All Through Time, We've Been Here [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1879915
Comments: 6
Kudos: 133





	1. Lisbon

**Author's Note:**

> This came about because I wanted:
> 
> 1\. Joe and Nicky to meet some more queers throughout history,  
> 2\. An excuse to write about various European cities,  
> 3\. For Joe and Nicky to dance to Madonna in 1980s West Berlin.
> 
> Anyways! This is my first time writing a fanfic so please be kind!! Also I had to edit this myself, let me know of any mistakes - grammatical/historical/whatever!!
> 
> I hope you enjoy it! :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I have never heard of other women like me and Esther. Only men like you two,” Isabel glances at them with wonder.
> 
> “Were we that obvious?”, Yusuf laughs almost sarcastically, they both knew they were obvious, then glancing at Nicolò, “What gave us away?”
> 
> “The way you behave around each other, even unconsciously, you seem to worship one another. Only in the way that suggests one of the greatest loves. It was how people knew what was between Esther and I.”

**_Lisbon_ **

**_3rd August 2020_ **

Since the start of her new life as an immortal, Nile had spent a considerable amount of time with Andy, Joe and Nicky. And by that, I mean she hadn’t spent a moment apart from them. With Andy’s ever looming new mortality, Joe and Nicky had adopted a kind of smothering-mother-hen type of regime in order to keep Andy away from any serious danger that could lead to a fatality. Meaning: they hadn’t been on a mission in a couple of months.

Nile wasn’t too bothered by this at the start, as she had needed some time to actually process the fact that she couldn’t die. She hadn’t quite had that liberty back on her marine base and subsequently whisked into meeting her new immortal family, jumping out of a skyscraper with millionaire pharmaceutical scum, and facing a rather daunting set of new information: Booker was to leave for one hundred years, Andy was immortal.

But now, it had been a couple of months and Nile thought enough was enough. They need to get back out there. People need their help.

So, she just as well said so to the group one night. For a few moments, she was met with complete silence until-

“She’s right and you know it.” Andy’s voice rang firm and clear in the grandiose hotel room Nicky and Joe decided they absolutely needed to stay in. ( _“Our family deserves the best!”)_

They were currently staying in a beautiful hotel in Lisbon – the dead centre of the city, nonetheless. The Portuguese capital showcased an array of beauty, ranging from the many _Azulejo_ , colourful ceramic tiles, that covered parts of the city, to the _Carmo Convent_ , ruins from an eighteenth-century church, the largest at the time, that was left in ruins from the 1755 earthquake. It was mainly these features that drew Joe and Nicky to the city centuries ago.

**_Sometime in May 1679_ **

Things were the hardest for Andromache after they got separated from Quynh, naturally, and as soon as they all felt that they were safe enough to venture on separate journeys once more, they did just that. Andy took to the French countryside in order to find some sort of peace in wake of the turmoil and all-consuming grief that filled every fibre of her being, whilst Nicolò and Yusuf took to Portugal. They each agreed to meet up at the turn of the new century, 1700, in Madrid.

Having narrowly avoided the Portuguese Restoration war, ending nine years prior, Nicolò and Yusuf headed for Lisbon, a city they had wanted to visit for quite some time now as they’d never had the chance to before.

As soon as they arrived in the city, they fell in love with its villas and towns buildings built upon the seven hills and its large church with stunning architecture (not yet in ruins). They found themselves an inn in which to reside, on the outskirts of the city for their first few nights. The inn was owned by a woman they came to know as Isabel, a large woman in her fifties who ended up inheriting the inn from her late husband, who had died fighting the war against Spain.

“I’m telling you Nicolò, he was a great man!” Isabel boomed drunkenly as the three sat down and dined together late one night.

“I’m sure he was, Isabel”, Nicolò replied as she swayed into his side. He patted her shoulder gently. Yusuf smiled.

“I supposed I never loved him fully, though” She trailed off.

Yusuf turned to Nicolò in dismay. Whilst he did appreciate Isabel’s generosity in feeding them nightly, he did not, however, appreciate the nightly drunken rambles that came along with the meals. Nicolò was more tolerant. On the outside at least. Yusuf never heard the end of it once they were in the confines of their room, most likely in the early hours of the morning after Isabel had talked off their ears all night.

He decided to indulge her as a last-ditch attempt at going to bed before three in the morning at least _for once_ this week.

“Oh… And why is that, Isabel? If he was a great man to you and those around him?”, Yusuf asked and whilst he was annoyed, he did ask this question softly with respect.

Isabel looked at the two carefully, observing their position. Yusuf was leaning into Nicolò’s side ever so slightly. Nicolò was relishing the fact, his hand ever so subtly grasping onto a piece of his lover’s clothing. They looked serene.

She decided to tell them.

“I only ever truly loved my dear childhood friend.” She spoke in a whisper and before either of them had the chance to respond, she gave them her name “Esther,”

Nicolò and Yusuf shared a glance. People they came across who were also like them often confided in them. Yusuf thought it was because they were obvious whilst Nicolò thought it was destiny to help or comfort those who had confided in them.

And thus, Yusuf asked, even more softly than before,

“What happened to your Esther, Isabel? Who was she?”.

Isabel drew in a choked breath. Tears began to fall slowly down her face.

“She came from France. Somewhere in the north. She came to live here, in Lisboa, when she was twelve. Her father decided on the move as he had family who owned a farm out in the country. They wanted to keep close to their family. We met in the city market that summer. I’ll never forget it. I caught her staring at the most beautiful fabrics, she wanted to make clothes for people and sell them in a market too.”

Isabel took a moment to collect herself, dabbing at her eyes with her dress. Nicolò reached over to comfort her, taking her hand in his.

“We fell in love that same summer, although we didn’t know it yet. We spent so much time together. I helped find her fabric to practice sewing with, as my family sold clothes at the market. It was easy for me to sneak away some surplus fabric every now and then. Anyway, it came to our attention that it was her father’s intention to only stay in Lisboa for the summer months and she returned to France after the season ended.

“But she was to spend every summer up until her death with me. She gave her father the idea to visit his brother every summer and he indeed took that into account. As we grew older, we fell deeper in love. She first kissed me when we turned seventeen, in the early hours of the morning as we walked to the market from her family’s farm. We walked hand in hand everywhere after that. By the time we were eighteen, we were sneaking off to spend the nights in each other’s arms, watching the sunset.

“That wasn’t to last however, as one year, Esther did not reach Lisboa for the summer. There had been an accident during her voyage. A harsh storm hit and, and- capsized the ship she was travelling on.”

By the time Isabel had finished, Yusuf had moved from Nicolò’s side to Isabel’s, clutching her other hand with tears in his eyes, her story reminding him ever so slightly of their dear friend, Quynh’s, eternal imprisonment.

“After that, I was married off to Luis. He was always a good man to me and I did love him. Just never as much as I loved her.”

“You know,” Nicolò spoke after a moment or two of silence, “Your story reminds me of our friends',"

Isabel glanced up in shock at his words.

“You mean to say-

“We have a friend named And- Annabelle,” Yusuf mouthed “ _Annabelle?”_ incredulously at that sorry excuse for Andromache’s century-and-place-appropriate-name (Each time he came up with something, it was worse than the last). Nicolò ignored him and continued, “Who is currently in France. She too, mourns her lover. They were separated by the hand of cruel, English priests and accused of witchcraft. Annabelle survived their torture but Quynh sadly did not. She was cast off into the ocean to drown,” Nicolò finished.

“I have never heard of other women like me and Esther. Only men like you two,” Isabel glances at them with wonder.

“Were we that obvious?”, Yusuf laughs almost sarcastically, they both knew they were obvious, then glancing at Nicolò, “What gave us away?”

“The way you behave around each other, even unconsciously, you seem to worship one another. Only in the way that suggests one of the greatest loves. It was how people knew what was between Esther and I.”

***

Later that night, after they had bid their goodbyes until tomorrow to Isabel, Yusuf and Nicolò lay awake in each other’s arms. Yusuf with his face pressed up against Nicolò’s neck and Nicolò pressing his lips into Yusuf’s hair. In an attempt to lull him to sleep, Nicolò began carding his fingers through Yusuf's curls.

“I never wish to see the day that we have to leave each other, Nico,” Yusuf murmurs into his lover’s neck.

“Death himself could nor tear me from your arms,” Nicolò replies, a firm ferocity among his softly spoken words. “You know I would fight him with my bear hands if I could. If he so much as dreamt about separating us.”

Yusuf laughs softly.

“I know you would.”

He reached around for a moment, searching for his lover's hand, pulling it to his heart. "Did you like the church today, Nico?" he asked softly.

"It was beautiful," Nicolò replied, gazing into Yusuf's eyes.

"I believe you are the one that is turning out to be the incurable romantic."


	2. Berlin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just as Joe tucked Nicky and his chair into the table, a certain song began to blast over the sound system. Nicky gasped in delight, Joe pulling him up by the hands over toward the dance floor. It had been decided. They were to dance.
> 
> “I never thought those two would have been Madonna fans.” Nile remarked, not entirely shocked as her time with Andy, Nicky and Joe had left her unsurprised at most things they did on a regular basis. Immortal grandparents were weird, she thought. Madonna, though? She’d definitely thought Nicky as more of an alternative music guy. New Order, perhaps. Tears for Fears, for sure. Maybe even The Cure, if he was feeling particularly goth. Joe on the other hand, in her mind, was definitely a Wham! guy. She could totally see him crying over George Michael’s Careless Whisper and singing it to Nicky on drunken nights (Which she was totally right about, by the way).
> 
> Andy chuckles glancing at the ridiculous pair on the dance floor, surrounded by people looking at them. They were kind of slow dancing. To Madonna.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: i just rewatched the old guard again and turns out they actually were in Berlin when the wall was knocked down !! (at the end when they're all looking at Copley's findings of them through history there's a clip to a newspaper cutting saying something like "taste of freedom", "Berlin, 1989" on there so................. nice.)

**_Berlin_ **

**_7th August 2020_ **

After deciding on only the safest of missions, discussed in full and weapons-drawn-to-attack-if-you-dare-think-to-betray-us fashion in a meeting with Copley, the gang headed off to Berlin on their next mission.

Their mission was simple. Intercept a HGV transporting a highly important load of high class drugs to a crime lord responsible for corrupting local politicians via blackmail and providing half the cities drug addicts. Cut off _the_ singlehandedly most important shipment he needs (the blackmail), cut off his power (no blackmail), relieve some tension on the politicians (less snakey). Not the most interesting of missions according to Nile, which she did in fact voice before they set off.

( _“Really? We’re helping out some fucking politicians? But I’m all about anarchy!”_

_“Nile, relax, we can get you some anarchy soon.”_ )

Now, in any other circumstances you would think, wow – that does not sound simple, it sounds dangerous, even and usually, you would be right. However, this van in particular is being driven by an absolute moron. A total first timer at the whole crime thing. Definitely way out of her depth and hence, the mission is made simple.

Way-out-of-her-depth lorry driver fled at the first sign of threat from the gang - which was not even that much of a threat. She probably thought they were undercover _Polizei_ coming to arrest her.

It was all over in a flash, really. Nile jumped in front of the van, causing the driver to swerve and break instantly. Immediately after that, Nicky and Joe flanked either side of the vehicle, but not before she could escape.

Andy was pissed off about the whole thing. She had one job allocated to her for this mission which was a well-practiced, Oscar worthy speech consisting of only the words “Relinquish the goods, or perish”. Just as Andy prepared herself to bellow said speech, she saw the driver sprinting past her into the distance.

_(“I’m just that good, Nicky.”_

_“You certainly are, boss.”)_

After their upsettingly mundane mission, they decided to show Nile some clubs they used to frequent way back in their short residency of Schöneberg in the late 1980s, remembering some of the good nights they spent in the city.

Andy drew them into one nightclub, filled to the brim with young people, dancing as if their lives depended on it. She walked them over to a table near the side and sat down, but not before ordering them a round of drinks.

The nightclub is lit with deep purples and blues, casting strange shadows on the walls from dancers’ flailing arms. It’s eighties night guessing from the collection of songs the wall shaking sound system was playing.

Just as Joe tucked Nicky and his chair into the table, a certain song began to blast over the sound system. Nicky gasped in delight, Joe pulling him up by the hands over toward the dance floor. It had been decided. They were to dance.

“I never thought those two would have been Madonna fans.” Nile remarked, not entirely shocked as her time with Andy, Nicky and Joe had left her unsurprised at most things they did on a regular basis. Immortal grandparents were weird, she thought.

Madonna, though? She’d definitely thought Nicky as more of an alternative music guy. New Order, perhaps. Tears for Fears, for sure. Maybe even The Cure, if he was feeling particularly goth. Joe on the other hand, in her mind, was definitely a Wham! guy. She could totally see him crying over _Careless Whisper_ and singing it to Nicky on drunken nights (Which she was totally right about, by the way).

Andy chuckled glancing at the ridiculous pair on the dance floor, surrounded by people looking at them. They were kind of slow dancing. To Madonna.

Joe was leading Nicky in a sort of pseudo-slow dance that was sped up to the tempo they should have been dancing normally to. Obviously they were gazing into each other’s eyes and melting into each other’s embrace, whilst Joe sang along to the words and Nicky bobbed his head along in time to the rhythm. They really were a (sorry) sight to behold.

“No, they’re not really avid Madonna fans. Just this one song. It reminds them of when we were here last. Me too, actually. Good times.” She looked out to the pair as they still danced arm in arm.

 _(“Really? To_ Into the Groove _? I don’t know whether Madonna would be impressed or not.”)_

“When were you here last? _Danke!_ ” Nile replied, thanking the waiter as he deposited their drinks onto the table for them.

**_8th November 1989_ **

They’d been here a bit before that actually, a decade, maybe, helping East Germans across the border, or The Wall, to escape from Soviet rule. Conditions had been getting worse in East Germany and finally the gang decided they had to intervene. They had originally arrived in West Berlin around 1976 and began helping a rebellion dig a tunnel, one of many that had began, under the border as no one was getting over it easily. Tunnels on the other hand? Slightly easier to get people across. Especially easier at going unnoticed by the East German Police, both the _Volkspolizei_ and the _Stasi_. The Wall itself consisted of two walls with what came to be known as a death strip in the middle which held barbed wire, was lit, and patrolled by guards. So, tunnels it was. For now.

A few tunnels had been dug before, so the gang definitely knew the group they were helping out stood a chance of digging one (They were particularly inspired by Tunnel 29 in the sixties, they definitely stood a chance now). The question that remained however, was whether they were going to be able to finish it or not. Enter: The Old Guard. With their unique skillset (being immortal warriors), they thought they stood a fighting chance at digging a successful tunnel with the rebellion group.

And they did just that.

After months of hard labour, they finally finished the tunnel managing to slither past border guards’ listening devices in the ground (Thank you, Booker!). They had dug themselves up in a member of the rebellion’s houses on the other side, in East Germany. The question now was: were they going to be able to get people across? (Yes.)

Since 1975, The Guard had collectively helped almost a hundred people through the rebellion’s tunnel. Their success was mainly due to the fact that they carried people across, dodging, and killing in some cases, any loose _Volkspolizei_ and _Stasi_ members that caught them in the act.

But I digress.

They had taken the night off on the eighth in order to celebrate a particularly smooth escape. The Guard took to a club near Nicky and Joe’s small flat in Schöneberg, along with some of the refugees they’d helped escape that very day. Andy and Booker had opted for separate residences a few minutes away from Nicky and Joe and were rarely seen together in public in order to dampen any rumour of association in case any _Stasi_ spies were nearby.

One of the refugees they’d escaped with was a young man in his twenties named Azizi who had been stuck in East Berlin due to his being born there. No West German passport meant no escape. His parents had ended up migrating to Germany (after a long convoluted series of events, it wasn’t where they wanted to be, fearful of persecution by a Germany only a few decades free from Nazi rule) from the German colony in Tanzania in the late fifties, but ended up stuck in East Germany just as the wall was erected. Azizi was born in 1968 and his parents swore to get their family out. In November 1989, they managed to do that as a family, assisted of course by none other than Joseph Jones and Nicky Smith (presumably? an old married couple, by the looks of it, in Azizi’s opinion).

A man that came to Azizi's attention, who was part of the West Berlin Rebellion that helped to build the tunnel and organise escapes was, named Jakob. He was a West Berlin native born in 1968, just like Azizi. The two had become fast friends building up to Azizi and his family’s escape. But Azizi had fallen in love with Jakob in the process (Oh dear). This was another driving factor for Azizi to escape as personally, he’d rather not be persecuted by the East German police for accidentally falling in love with another man ( _Stasi_ spies _really_ knew everything.).

Anyway, Azizi was offered a drink from Mr Jones and Mr Smith, as were some of the other refugees. He sat down to talk with them, overwhelmed by the day’s events, in contrast to Jakob who had taken to the dance floor, dancing like he’d never dance again. Fucking Madonna, she had that effect on people, apparently (Jakob said so, anyway).

“Yoo-hoo! Azizi! You there?” Joe’s voice broke his gazing at Jakob. He laughed embarrassedly and took a sip out of his drink to cool down his burning face.

“Joseph! He was looking at his beloved! You should have given him a while longer. How would you feel if Andy was to break up one of our longing looks at each other?” Nicky replied tipsily.

“You already know the answer to that one. She’s done it many times before!”

Azizi had had his suspicions that the two were together. The way they gravitated around each other and looked at each other with such reverence filled him with hope that maybe one day he and Jakob could have something like that.

He needed to ask them.

“So…” He trailed off.

“ ‘So…’ What, ‘Zizi?” Joe asked.

“You two are together? In love?”

Nicky stared at him deadpan and said “ _We live in Schöneberg!”_ whilst Joe exhaled dreamily in his Joe-like way and said _“Yes! The Love of My Life! And so much more!”_

“Ah, ok,” Azizi chuckled before continuing, “I had to ask, I just wanted to ask you something else too,”

“And what is that, dear child?” Nicky replied softly. Was he being serious? Azizi was three seconds away from shitting himself.

“How did you… you know… ask each other out?”

“You’re telling me you’re not with Herr Jakob?” Joe exclaimed, “The way you’ve been gazing at each other all night as well! I thought you’d been together since we met you in planning!”

“Ah, well, no… I was too paranoid to do anything in the East… and I wasn’t sure if he liked me back.”

Joe spluttered incredulously and Nicky took a sip, smiling into his drink, moving to put his arm around Joe’s shoulders, beginning to stroke his arm gently.

“Are you blind? Are you oblivious? He swept you up into his arms after you crawled out of that hellish tunnel this afternoon and kissed you on your cheek for _way_ longer than was necessary!”

At that moment, Andy and Booker came to join their table having finished dancing to something that could have been _Let’s Dance_ by David Bowie. Joe shrieked for their attention.

“Andy! Booker! ‘Zizi is telling me he’s not Jakob’s boyfriend!”

“Wait what? Seriously? We had a betting pool running on your status. You owe me big time, Yusuf.” Andy replied. Booker just laughed taking a swig of his drink, sitting down next to her, the both of them dripping in sweat.

“Wait! You what?!” Azizi replied. This day was getting to be too much for him.

“Yeah, no, we noticed you two – really cute, by the way – and thought ‘This is what we should do our annual betting pool on’” Booker answered.

Nicky cut in thinking Azizi wanted to hear the intricate depths of their betting pool fun with:

“We have this betting pool between us, we’re old friends it makes things interesting, usually we do it about ourselves, like Andy with baklava-”

“No, no, no, I- that’s just really bizarre” Azizi interrupted.

“What? That it was about you or that we have a betting pool in general?” Joe almost demanded. Looks like he's tipsy now too. But all this fell on deaf ears as Jakob was heading over to their table! Holy _shit_! Fuck! What should he do-

“Ask him to dance, ‘Zizi” Nicky spoke softly.

Azizi glanced nervously at the two, sitting comfortably in each other’s embrace. They each nodded at him in encouragement. Right. He can do this. If those two, those unlikely two can, he most certainly can. Hey, they even said that Jakob liked him back- Oh fuck he’s here.

“How’s it going, guys?” Jakob shouted as he came over. The music had began to sound louder, beats throbbed out of the sound system at a dangerous level. Would he have his hearing intact tomorrow?- Wait fuck! Jakob’s putting his arm around his shoulder! Holy fuck, it’s happening.

Just as Azizi had managed to process that Jakob, sweet fucking Jakob, had put his arm around his shoulder, Joe gasped in utter delight.

“Nicky, _Li_ _ebling_ , we’re dancing to this right now!” Joe essentially screeched at the top of his lungs, dragging a laughing Nicky along with him out onto the dance floor.

It was Madonna. She’d struck again.

Jakob turned and grinned down at Azizi. His time had come.

“Dance with me?” Azizi asked, glancing up at Jakob with the most innocent, hopeful stare.

Of course, he said yes.

**_9th November 1989_ **

The Guard had heard the news. Travel restrictions on East German visas were going to be lifted. From tonight. Immediately.

They headed to the wall in case of any trouble.

Where they were not met with any. Only protesting Berliners that were… were they?

They were.

They were climbing on top of the wall. So many of them. Crowds were gathered, cheering for what seemed like miles as the first few chinks were made in The Wall’s armour.

It was coming down.

Piece by piece, holes were beginning to form, until a particularly large chunk fell.

That was it. The road to freedom had begun.

Andy and Booker looked on in awe at the people still screaming and shouting and tearing that son of a bitch down, whilst Nicky and Joe took each other’s hands and looked on at the crowds and crowds of people.

And through the crowd, against all odds, they saw none other than Azizi and Jakob kissing each other tenderly. Hands were cupped around the backs of heads and palms lay flat over hearts as the two pulled away from each other only for a moment, and in that moment they met Nicky and Joe’s eyes through the crowd too.

Azizi smiled and hid his face in Jakob’s shoulder, whilst the latter beamed at the older men and began to wave heartily.

“I’ll always treasure moments like this,” Nicky whispered to Joe later that night, his face was pressed closely to Joe’s.

His hand coming up to trace Nicky’s face, Joe placed kisses on his forehead.

“You and I both, my heart.”

**Author's Note:**

> I may... write some more of these. I have a few other cities in mind!


End file.
